


Some Nights

by substitute-doll (LordVae)



Category: Critical Role (Web Series)
Genre: Angst, Family, Fluff, Hurt/Comfort, I need more family bonding with these guys, Nightmares
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-05-28
Updated: 2018-05-31
Packaged: 2019-05-14 15:31:37
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 3
Words: 3,431
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14772314
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/LordVae/pseuds/substitute-doll
Summary: Caleb Widogast hated the flames, but he took control of them in an attempt to reclaim the peace they had robbed him of. He bent the fires to his will, as they made him do. Caleb Widogast was strong in that way.But some nights, he was was weak and fragile.Some nights, Caleb Widogast could not stand the fires that would seep into his dreams, could not bear dreaming of the dead as if death itself was undone.But in those nights, Caleb Widogast was not alone.





	1. "It isn't any trouble": Yasha

**Author's Note:**

> A series of little mundane moments, in which Caleb bonds slowly with the group, one by one.

There was burning.

There was a taste of fire on his lips and soot in his lungs. The heat knew no bounds. When he opened his eyes, there was nothing but the orange blaze, flickering sweetly, licking at his face, beckoning.

Oh, gods, the burning.

Caleb's body was, for all intensive purposes, on fire. It surrounded him. He sat on his knees in a bed of coals and embers, flames surging around him in an unseen storm. His hair whipped around his face in the vortex. He coughed. There was ash in his mouth. He choked. More ash, deep in his chest. It coated his mouth and he spat, the puff like dead snow disappearing almost instantly.

Whispers from afar pierced the flames, and Caleb whimpered, eyes watering. He knew those voices. They rose in volume, growing shrill, desperate. Caleb knew these screams. They were begging for help. They were begging him.

Open the door, let us out, help us.

Help us.

Help.

Please...

The haggard man pressed a hand against his throat, chest heaving, tightening. He reached out to the bodiless shrieks and let out a soundless cry. He couldn't breathe.

The fire surged forward, caressing his face again like a hand. The heat painted his face red as the roaring continued, and through it Caleb heard another voice, one hissing oh so gently and so much closer than the disembodied screaming. His body shook as he recognized it, and the words resonated in his skull even after it stopped speaking.

"They deserved this. You deserve this, Caleb Widogast."

Caleb doubled over, gagging, sending up cinders around his hunched body. He couldn't breathe and he began clawing at his neck. It hurt. His chest was tight. The voices continued. His head began to spin.

_I deserve this._

The screams became distant suddenly, and the fire curling around Caleb suddenly waned like a tide. He felt a pressure on his shoulders, shaking him.

The screams came back all at once, crying together, yelling his name louder. The fire's hissing whisper joined the pleas.

Caleb.

The wizard's eyes grew dim, tears finding their way down his cheeks. He knew what was next. The hissing was at his ear now, heat pressing against his neck.

"You deserve to burn like they did, Caleb, dear."

_I deserve to burn in the fires of my sins._

Caleb.

His hands grew slack and fell from his throat, now red and bloodied, heaving chest slowing to a painful twitch. The fire crawled back around his body, slowly creeping, eager to devour him. Caleb welcomed the heat as he gave himself to it. He deserved it. He deserved it. He...

_Caleb!_

He awakens with a start, jerking sideways. He sucks in a breath and it catches, and he splutters, choking on nothing as his body sends him reeling into a coughing fit. He is pulled upright by something - someone - and a hand is at his back. He can't even bother flinching, he's busy half-sobbing, trying to breathe with his hands clinging to his chest. His face is wet with sweat and his chest is so tight, and he's shaking so hard. His sight is blurry with tears, but he knows he is in a bed. There are no flames trying to drag him into nothingness. There is no soot lining his lungs, or ash coating his mouth.

The hand on his back began to rub slow circles between his shoulderblades. It is big and heavy, and Caleb brings up his knees to his chest and ducks his face between his legs, fingers lacing in his sweat-damp hair. The coughing began to cease, and Caleb was left with tears streaming down his cheeks. His body shaking uncontrollably, breathing unsteadily and shallow, much too frantically.

"Caleb," he winced at the voice, even though it was quiet and deliberately soft. "Caleb, it's Yasha. You are safe. It's just me with you right now. Can you try to calm down a bit for me?" The aasimar spoke calmly, a twinge of concern in her tone. Caleb could only nod, and Yasha let out a contented noise. They remained in quiet for a moment, Yasha still rubbing her hand in small motions on his back. The tears kept coming for a good while, but eventually, Caleb slowly lifted his head from his knees and unthreaded his fingers from his hair. He kept focused on his trembling hands, but managed to somewhat steady his breathing, and the crying paused; although Yasha noticed he looked like he would fall apart at any moment.

"Do you remember where we are? You don't have to talk if you're not ready. Just a nod can work,"

Caleb hesitated. An inn. They were in an inn. The group had been celebrating a recent mission, and he had been much too worn out to join them. He had retired early. That's right. She must have decided to go to bed early, too, and heard him. The wizard paused a moment before nodding.

"Good." Yasha exhaled in relief, before she suddenly snapped her hand away from him. "Oh, I'm sorry. Is touching you like this okay? I... I didn't ask,"

Caleb furrowed his brow and looked up at her. He was surprised to see a look of genuine concern on her face. It made his chest tighten, and his eyes watered as he nodded, almost desperately, and ducked his head. He didn't deserve that look. He didn't deserve that comforting touch.

"O-oh, I'm sorry, did I upset you?" Yasha awkwardly held her hands up, leaning back from her perch on the end of the bed. She jumped a bit as Caleb reached out and made a grabby motion at her, beginning to shake again. 

" _Bitte..._ P... please..." he choked out through a fresh wave tears. "...I'm sorry... I j-just..."

"No, no it's okay, it's no trouble." She cautiously placed one large hand around his shaky one, and the other on his back again, heart breaking a little at the weak whine that emanated from his throat. "It... it's alright, Caleb. I've done this with Mollymauk a lot. He wakes up with bad dreams, too."

Caleb clung to her hand, sniffling pathetically. He squeezed his eyes shut, bowing his head as she began to rub his back again, this time up and down. It was slow, and he timed his breathing to the rhythmic pressure she would apply to his lower and mid-back.

In, one, two, out. In, one two, out.

"I... I don't deserve this..." Caleb eventually mumbled, very softly. He seemed almost half asleep. "Why...?"

Yasha squeezed his fingers. "I told you, Caleb. Molly has bad dreams too. No one deserves to be alone with nightmares."

There was a long pause. "...I do." The response was breathy. He was dozing back off.

"No, Caleb." Yasha's voice was stern, but not unkind. "You do not deserve to be alone."

There was no response for a long while, just the long inhales and exhales of half-sleep, before a very quiet "thank you."

Yasha smiled faintly. "It isn't any trouble."

She stayed with Caleb until Nott arrived much later, making sure he wouldn't wake up uneasy again. After all, it wasn't any trouble.


	2. "It's only a small gesture": Mollymauk

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In which Caleb gets caught up in a crowd and begins to panic.

Mollymauk Tealeaf was an enigma. A complete, utter enigma.

Caleb didn't trust him at all, in the beginning. He was shady, too open with everyone, yet... ridiculously, absolutely, impeccably moral and kind, if not a bit of an ass.

A complete enigma.

Caleb first came to realize this after the incident in the mines. He'd immolated that priest's head, and just... he was back all those years ago. Back to the voices, the heat, the screaming, the guilt - before it had been Mollymauk to smack him out of his daze. It hurt, but the following sign of affection, the forehead kiss, "time for that later"... it made Caleb realize that there was maybe more to Molly than this extravagant persona.

He didn't mind it. He rather liked the tiefling's presence. The consistent smell of lavender and herbs wafting off of him was rather relaxing at times.

And in times like this, he wished he had more of that scent.

Caleb stood in the middle of Zedash, surrounded by too many people at once. It was just a late-night errand run with Jester, initially, but they went out in the middle of a festival and Caleb got separated. Now, he was standing smack in the middle of too many people. He stood, frozen, hands tangled in his scarf, stumbling as people bustled past him, running into him and yelling over his head.

It was... a lot. He was on edge the second they got into the town square, but Jester had been holding his hand, and the contact was enough to get him through it. Now, he had no one but himself, the stars, and countless people. He could feel his heartbeat thumping in his chest, echoing in his ears. He swallowed dryly as he craned his head around to try to catch sight of her, or anyone, really. He needed to leave but he just _couldn't._ There was too much happening. Too much noise, too much touching.

Caleb groaned and huddled in on himself and forced himself to push through the crowd a bit, apologizing in his mothertongue with every bump. His breath began to quicken as more and more people funneled in his way, and he froze again. Someone bumped into him and swore as they stomped past. Caleb's chest felt tight and his head was beginning to hurt; probably because his breathing was shallow and growing panicked as if he had been running miles.

Which, would be preferable to _this._ This was hell on earth.

"Ooh..." Caleb pressed a hand to his forehead, trying to focus. "Jester?" The panic began to sink in and he bit his lip, looking around again, frantically. As expected, she was nowhere to be seen in this mass of people. Caleb whined to himself and shoved his shaking hands into his pockets. Not good. Not good. He begged that friendly moon in the sky to send an angel to rescue him, to whisk him away.

"Oh, Caleb! There you are, love,"

Not the voice of Jester, but the scent of lavender drifted over to Caleb from behind and he knew who it was. Not the kind of angel he was meaning, but an angel nonetheless, even with the horns. He whipped around, reaching out for Mollymauk before he even had the confirmation it was him. Molly blinked in obvious surprise but grabbed onto the shaken man's arms. He looked horrified - pale and sweating and trembling. It took him a second, but Molly knew exactly what was wrong the second Caleb pressed himself a lot closer than he normally would against his shoulder.

"Let's get out of here, shall we?" Mollymauk hummed. He linked his arm with Caleb and turned around, pulling him along quickly through the crowd, weaving his way through people. He stopped every so often to let Caleb catch his breath, but eventually he pushed their way out of the crowd and into an alleyway. Caleb immediately unlinked arms and went straight for the wall, pushing his back against it and holding a shaking hand to his chest.

" _Scheiße,_ " he wheezed, trying to catch his breath. He couldn't, and found himself starting to hyperventilate, letting out a high pitched moan. This purple, moon-sent angel had whisked him away, but now he was having trouble recovering from the noises and sensation overload.

Mollymauk approached him, hands extended so Caleb could see them. "Let me help, can I help?" he waited, dipping his head to catch Caleb's eyes. There was a fear in them but he nodded, and Molly immediately pushed him gently to sit down. "You don't like crowds, huh?"

" _N-nein,_ it's, just a, a lot, t-tonight,"

The purple tiefling laughed a bit. "I understand. Okay, this angle might be weird for you, but it'll help you breathe, alright love?" When Caleb nodded, Mollymauk positioned himself half straddling one of the wizard's legs, mostly just hovering over it so he was able to lean his arm on the wall behind him while pressing his other warm hand and forearm against Caleb's chest. "I'm going to press against your chest, okay? I won't do it hard. Sometimes pressure helps you figure out how to breathe again, okay?" He waited for another nod before he gently pressed the heel of his palm against Caleb's chest, leaning into it so his shoulder was at Caleb's chin. 

Caleb inhaled sharply at the closeness and warmth, and that aura of lavender filled his nose and caused a shiver. It was calming, and warm. He bit his lip as he found himself managing to exhale without immediately struggling to suck in another breath. Molly let up for a moment for him to get a big inhale, before pressing back against him. Again, he was able to get out the breath without panic. His hands began to stop shaking as violently, and he swallowed hard.

The cycle repeated for a minute or two. Molly, pressing against Caleb's chest for a handful of seconds before letting up, then pressing again. It was almost like the push and pull of a tide, back and forth. Caleb found himself able to relax enough, hands reaching up to cling to the back of Molly's colorful coat and forehead bumping against his cheek. He smelled like lavender everywhere. What, did he bathe in the flower? Smoke himself in incense?

"Is this helping?" Molly asked, pausing a second. He looked down at Caleb's face, waiting.

The wizard tested himself with a deep breath on his own, feeling successful when he managed, albeit shaky. " _J-ja,_ thank you, Mollymauk."

Molly flashed Caleb a pleased grin and moved back, sitting down in front of him with a thud. "I'm glad. It was only a small gesture, anyhow. I know that doesn't work for some people."

Caleb waved his hands in shock. "N-no, it was - it was extremely helpful, thank you, thank you," he offered a awkward smile, to which Molly laughed kindly at.

"Hey, no need to thank me, love." he folded his hands in his lap. "We can stay here for a while, until the crowd thins out a bit. I ran into Jester, that's why I came out to find you."

Caleb let out a noise somewhere between relief and weariness. "Ahh... I was hoping you would say that." His shoulders relaxed a bit more and he leaned against the wall again with a soft hum. "Thank you again, Mollymauk."

"Not a problem."

They sat in peace for a while, watching the people go by, heading to their beds or to their bars. The silence between them was comforting, and Molly eventually found himself sitting beside the wizard against the wall, the smell of lavender once again eliciting relaxation from Caleb. He glanced at the tiefling for a moment, measuring his words.

"Mollymauk?"

"Yes, Caleb?"

"...do you think you could spare some of your... lavender, whatever-it-is? For me to have? It's... very relaxing."

A warm chuckle. "Of course I could. Another small gesture, from me to you."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Having someone press on my chest when I'm hyperventilating helps me remember how to breathe right - no idea if others find it helpful, though.


	3. "It's the right thing to do.": Beauregard

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In which Caleb has problems faking his state of mind.

They'd been on the move for two days now, and Caleb had barely gotten a wink of sleep. He'd had another nightmare he had yet to really recover from. He'd been a bit blank, staring in one his books but obviously not reading. His fingers hovered over the corners of pages but never turned. Nott didn't think anything of it, and so no one really questioned it. By dusk, Caleb offered to take the night watch. No one objected to it.

He slowly set up his alarm around their campsite in a clearing beside a stream, and helped secure the horses on a rather old looking tree. The fire in the middle of the campsite - his doing as well. For some reason, he was insisting on doing a large portion of the set up. No one seemed to notice. Beau did.

As everyone settled down, the monk waved a hand. "I'll sit up on watch too. Two pairs of eyes are better than one." Caleb frowned just barely at this.

Fjord nodded in agreement. "Good idea, Beau."

As the sun finished its descent and the moon arose, a chill washed over the small forest. Leaves rustled with the small breeze, and Caleb settled beside the fire, sitting sideways to it with a book in his hands. Beau remained standing, looking out into the small stream. They were in silence for a while as the rest of the group fell into slumber, and after the long heavy breaths resounded for a solid hour, Beau turned her gaze to Caleb. He was still on the same page.

"What're you staring at so intently?"

Caleb jumped. His head snapped up and the book snapped shut. "Huh?"

"The book. You haven't turned a page in the last hour." Beau's tone was a monotone, but not accusing. Caleb wet his lips and he looked into the fire for a moment, head feeling a bit fuzzy.

"It is... nothing, Beau." he finally said, with obvious uncertainty. He expected a lashing response, but all she did was grunt and look to the fire. Caleb's shoulders went slack and he fell quiet. The awkward air of tension remained.

"You don't need to fight your demons alone, Caleb."

The words came out of nowhere like the arrows that tended to strike Caleb in the chest from the darkness. His eyes watered a bit against his will, and he looked over to the monk. She was still staring into the fire, standing, as if she hadn't said a word. "It's better that way."

A snort. "No it's not. Not always. Not in your case."

Caleb's head tilted to the side. "How would you know?"

"Because we're different." Beau's head turned to look at him, eyes meeting his. "You told me about your past. You trusted me enough to do that, right?" She waited for his confused nod before continuing. "You told me even though I have no idea how to respond to it. So that means you understand how different we are. My past, it's nothing to me. It's in the wind. It's fuck-all to me. Your past - you wake up screaming because of it. It leaves you in a daze for days. Don't think I didn't notice how absent you've been acting."

Caleb winced a bit. "I - "

"I'm not done talking." She cut in. There was no venom in her voice. It threw Caleb off. "Your past is fuck-everything to you. And I don't understand it at goddamn all. But you told me, so you saw something in me so you wouldn't be alone. Maybe the different perspective, maybe because I'm not gonna let you be a sad fuck all the time." 

There was another breeze that carried a few leaves past them. The fire swayed near him and broke their eye contact to watch the embers lick at his arm.

"Look. I'm not gonna sit here and act like I'll understand what's bothering you." Beau sighed. "Because I won't really understand it. But I'm here, right now. Just us. Don't be a shithead. Tell me what's wrong because I can't stand this awkward quiet when you're just staring at nothing. I'm not good at this but I might as well try."

Caleb swallowed hard. A tightness had gripped his chest. She was right, of course. He'd chosen to paint the picture of his sins to her for a reason. He didn't know that reason, but maybe it _was_ because of how different they were. He had no idea. He bit his lip and closed his eyes at his musings, setting the book in his lap aside. Beau pushed up from the tree and walked over, sitting down cross-legged, not too close to his space but close enough for it to feel private.

The wizard looked up to the stars. "Alright, Beauregard." he pursed his lips. "But... but why do you suddenly care?"

Beau scoffed. "It's not sudden. I'm really bad at this, Caleb. But... I guess I care about you and your fucked up shit. I guess it's the right thing to do."

Caleb hesitated. He breathed in deeply before opening his mouth to admit what had caused his distance, very quietly.

They talked into the early morning. It was mostly Caleb rambling Beau only occasionally offering a dry comment, but he had to admit, it wasn't awful.

Maybe he didn't need to fight these demons alone.


End file.
